Interventions
by w1n5t0n
Summary: Ron goes to Godric's Hollow to mourn the death of a friend, but has an unexpected visitor:Oneshot


**Disclaimer:** All characters, places, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling, not me

**Letting Go**

**By: w1n5t0n**

"_Lumos"_

A small circle of yellowed light blossomed in the night; revealing a pale, redheaded boy clutching a wand. His blue eyes were dull, red- rimmed and puffy, like he had been crying recently. The boy peered down the darkened pathway, scanning the looming trees on either side for any signs of movement.

Seeing that the lane was clear, he slowly advanced down the path, holding his wand in front of himself as if menacing an invisible foe. An owl hooted in the woods behind him, and he whirled around, eyes wide, breath coming in short, panting gasps. The owl gave him a look of the utmost disdain. Ron Weasley let out a sigh of relief that was almost a sob, and ran a hand through his hair, inwardly chastising himself for being so jumpy.

He closed his eyes and a scene flashed across his memory, almost quicker than could be processed: _Harry, falling after being struck with a shaft of green light…._

"No!" Ron balled his hands into fists and pressed them against his forehead. After the awful image faded, he slowly opened his eyes, wiping away stray tears dampening his cheeks. Squaring his shoulders, he faced the path again with a determined air quite the opposite of his former, nervous self. Striding confidently to the rusty iron gate at the end of the lane, he wrenched it open violently, almost pulling the ancient door completely off its hinges. Ron winced at the protesting screech, then stepped through, feet crunching on the graveled walkway.

Godric's Hollow cemetery hadn't changed much since he had been there last, almost a year ago. The stones still stood at crazy angles, marking where people long dead and forgotten lay in their final resting place. The place still had the creepy air of death hanging around it, as if the dead in the graves could affect the very air around them. And the only gravestone that looked like anyone had even bothered to come and look at it in the past year was still there, illuminated by the moonlight.

Ron stepped forward as if a daze, passing the many other tombstones and ignoring the ominous rustling of the wind through the tree branches. Reaching his goal, he dropped to his knees in the grass, tears streaming down his face as he read the inscription engraved perfectly into the white marble.

Harry James Potter

Born: July 31, 1990

Died: July 6, 2007

Here lies The Boy Who Lived. May he never be forgotten.

Ron almost laughed as he imagined what his friend would have said to the epitaph.

"Why would they bother putting the fact that I was the _Boy Who __**Lived **_on my _gravestone_? That's mental!" He could almost hear Harry's indignant voice.

The redheaded boy smiled grimly through his tears. Being the Boy Who _Lived_ hadn't done Harry much good. It had made him a figurehead, a rallying point that Voldemort had been sure to destroy as soon as he rose to power. The universe had painted a target right on his best friend's forehead, in the shape of an innocuous lightning bolt scar.

"At least you took him down with you, right mate?" Ron whispered, choking back another sob. The last battle was long and hard fought, and Ron closed his eyes in memory of the dead: Harry, Percy, George, Remus, Tonks, Mad Eye… the list went on.

"Why did you have to go and die on me? We were going to grow old together, sit around the fire, play Quiddich, and argue over whose kids were the cutest….. we were going to be Aurors and be best mans at each other's weddings and…" Ron had to stop talking again, pounding the earth as he glared through watery eyes at the grass crushed beneath his knees.

"Anyway, I just wanted to come here alone, you know? Talk to you…. Hermoine and I are getting married, do you believe it? We already picked out this house in Hogsmeade….'Moine wanted to be librarian at Hogwarts, you know, so we had to live somewhere close…" His voice trailed off and he stared at the gravestone, finally saying "This is the first time I could screw up my courage to come here, you know? I can't think of you anymore without seeing the… the battle."

The only response to his gushing news and heart wrenching confession was the lonely whistling of the wind through the trees. Ron broke off with a bitter, barking laugh.

"What am I doing talking to dirt? Must be going mental…" Ron heaved a sigh and threw one last, lingering look back at the white headstone, as if engraving it in his memory. He slowly turned around, wand now hanging limply in his hand; its light slightly dimmed from lack of attention.

And he stopped dead in his tracks.

There, sitting on a headstone, just as casually as he used to sit in the Gryffindor common room back at Hogwarts, was Harry. He looked as alive as he had ever been; green eyes sparkling; tousled black hair looking like a bird's nest, even the crooked glasses perched precariously on his nose. After taking in Ron's grief- stricken appearance, one raven black eyebrow quirked up, wrinkling the lightning scar on his forehead ever so slightly.

"What's the matter Ronniekins? Didn't you miss me at all? Oh, and congratulations on the engagement to Hermoine, by the way." His familiar voice sent Ron's mind reeling. _It couldn't be… _but it was…._This _wasn't_ real…_

"Ha… Ha... Harry?" Ron stammered, his brain completely short circuiting. "How…"

Harry grinned wryly, and the all- too- familiar gesture made Ron remember just how much he missed him.

"To put it quite simply, I'm a ghost." Harry stated this as if it were the most obvious fact in the world. Ron blinked, then took a closer look at his best friend. There _was_ an ever- so – subtle blue glow around Harry's form, very conspicuous if he had actually been paying attention and not gabbling like a fool.

"A… A… A… A ghost?" Ron managed to choke, his blue eyes revealing his extreme shock and trepidation. Harry could see the many emotions flashing across those eyes: anguish, fear, surprise, then finally they settled on… joy.

"HARRY!" Ron cried and he flung himself towards his friend, meaning to envelop him in a bear hug. Harry leaned back slightly and threw his arms up in warning.

"Ron, don't I'm…" Ron suddenly remembered a crucial fact about ghosts and tried to backpedal, but he was already airborne.

SMACK!

Ron did an impressive face plant right on the tombstone Harry had been casually perched on.

"…intangible." Harry finished and then leaned over his friend, checking for damages.

"Owwww" Ron moaned, rolling over onto his back and giving Harry an injured look.

"Sorry." Harry muttered, trying to keep a straight face. Ron seemed to shake off the pain and sat up, clutching his wounded head and staring at Harry as if he couldn't believe that _Harry_ was truly standing there, talking to him.

"Ron, I don't have much time." Ron's forehead wrinkled in confusion at the sudden change in Harry's tone. He opened his mouth to ask what Harry was talking about, but Harry cut him off before the redhead could get his question out.

"Ron, I hate to see you grieving like this. Sirius, too. I can_ see_ you, you know, from there." Harry's gaze drifted up to the sky. His face changed, growing solemn. "It hurts, seeing you grieve when you have so much life ahead of you... so much joy that shouldn't be tainted by grief." Harry's bright green eyes shifted back to meet Ron's blue ones. The green softened and he said gently "You need to let this…" He gestured helplessly towards the graveyard, "… go."

"No…" Ron croaked out, feeling tears start to spill from his eyes yet again. "No… I'll _never _forget you Harry!" Harry's smile faltered, and he looked immeasurable sad, so sad that Ron wanted to hug him and make the pain in his eyes go away… except he couldn't.

"I'm not asking you to forget me; I'm asking you to let me go." Harry's voice was low and filled with emotion. His form wavered for a brief second, and green eyes widened in panic. "Ron, what I'm here to say is: Don't let the past interfere with your future. I don't have much time left, interventions like this aren't usually allowed."

Ron crinkled his forehead in confusion. Interventions? What was he talking about?

Harry disappeared for a few seconds, and then came back, his face tight with concentration. Through gritted teeth, he hissed,

"Tell Sirius what I just told you, tell him _everything_, Ron." Harry seemed to be straining against some great force, which was pulling him back to wherever he came from. However, he managed to meet Ron's eyes one last time. He grinned wryly, that same, heart-wrenching grin from before, and whispered softly,

"I'll be watching." Then, he was gone, vanished into thin air. Only a slight breeze and a rustling in the trees marked that he had been there at all.


End file.
